


Surrender

by AngelofDarkness1605



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-24 00:59:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7487124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofDarkness1605/pseuds/AngelofDarkness1605
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lacey is determined to seduce the only man in town who resists her charms: the powerful, solitary Mr. Gold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surrender

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Inkfire for the wonderful beta work.

For the first time in almost as long as she can remember, Lacey feels a rush of nerves going through her when she rings the bell of the most infamous house in town. She shivers with anticipation at the thrill of it, at the prospect of what is to come.

It may have started as an admittedly silly idea during a particularly boring evening, but her latest challenge is all she can think of these days. Who knew that a casual remark from her best friend Ruby could lead her to obsess over none other than the lonely Gold.

It's not that Lacey likes him. Maybe she should, if only because the rest of the town hates him, but she simply doesn't know him well enough to have any opinion of him rather than as the feared landlord he supposedly is.

He is powerful and ruthless, or so it's said, and she likes that. But for all the few things that are known about him, she's never actually experienced any of these rumors to be true. If only he would do more than taking her father's van for a few days when the useless man who had part in her conception is late with his rent again, or evict some particularly pathetic tenants.

Lacey doesn't think that Gold is handsome, not at all, but she isn't really opposed to his crippled leg, lithe build and graying long hair either.

The only thing that makes him remotely interesting in her book is that he refuses to be seduced by her.

It's refreshing, really, in a town where she could have—and has had—every man she wants.

Everyone, except Gold.

She has tried it all. Innuendos, almost-kisses against the few inches of skin he actually exposes, meaningful glances, not-so-innocent touches all but where she wants him to react to her.

Everything but this.

Easy as it would be to assume that he's truly not interested, if only because, like Ruby said, he isn't attracted to women—or anyone—Lacey knows better than that. More than once, she has seen him glancing at her, when he must presume that she isn't looking, with a strange look in his eyes.

It's flattering indeed, considering that her best friend is at least right when reminding her that Gold hasn't had anyone in his life for as long as she can remember. If he enjoyed buying such services or accepted payment in flesh from some of his more destitute tenants...

Well, she has her sources for the juiciest gossip. If Gold did actually screw someone in the physical sense, she would know all about it eventually.

Lacey loves the chase, and she has never had a better prey than the cold landlord.

So that's why she stands on his doorstep, wearing more conservative clothes and make-up than she has done for a decade, all ready for her ultimate attempt at seducing the most elusive man in town.

Her breathing quickens with eagerness when the sound of approaching footsteps and the steady tap of his cane can be heard. The door is thrown open a moment later, a snarling Gold appearing on the threshold.

"You have some nerve coming here," he growls, the sound sending a rush of heat through her. "It's bad enough that you harass me at Granny's and at my shop, but to show up at my house..."

"Don't pretend you don't enjoy it, Mr. Gold," she purrs, suggestively running her eyes over him.

He doesn't even blink in reaction.

"Get off my property, or I'll have the Sheriff arrest you for trespassing at the very least. I'm sure that your father will be interested in hearing of your erratic behavior as well."

"I'm sure he will," she replies, shrugging. "But it's not as if I care what he thinks or says. Besides, you know as well as I do that the Sheriff never holds me longer than a night at the station anyway."

She can clearly see the moment he becomes aware of her clothing choices for the evening. His glance sweeping over her for the briefest of moments, she wonders what he thinks at the sight of her in a for once modest blouse and a skirt reaching just past her knees.

The fact that she somewhat caught him off guard for the very first time is very much worth the investments—after all, it's not as if she'd had such clothing in her closet.

"I'd like to make you a deal," she says, inwardly smirking that he hasn't said anything yet and she gets to use his most infamous words against him.

"That would imply that you have something that I want to offer me," he replies, his eyes boring back into hers when he snaps out of whatever it was that had him truly paying attention to her appearance.

"I do, Mr. Gold, I do."

She lets a silence fall, drawing it out, cherishing this slightest, hard-won bit of power she has over him. That alone is better than hanging out at The Rabbit Hole.

"I'm not interested in your immature games, Miss French."

He probably doesn't realize it, for he wouldn't have done it if he had, but never before has he said her name, ridiculously formal as it might sound like this. As if he were above actually acknowledging her... or rather, as if he _had been_.

"You'll find that I'm hardly immature," she smirks, reminding herself to stay calm as she becomes more convinced of the accuracy of her intuition.

Obviously, he _is_ interested—otherwise he would have thrown the door into her face right after opening it, and would have actually called the Sheriff rather than merely threatening to do so. She just doesn't know what he is interested in, only that it isn't the obvious.

More than ever, she is determined to find out what he wants instead.

This would usually be the moment she pushes a guy against the wall and grabs him, _teases_ him—the only part of him that she's interested in.

But Gold clearly requires a whole different approach, and she marvels at the novelty of it.

"I'll leave you alone from now on," she continues, finally speaking the words she has been mentally rehearsing for days, "if you let me come inside, and prove to me that you truly don't want me."

"Why would I need to prove what we both know to be true?"

"Would I be here otherwise?"

His gaze sweeps over her once more, so quickly that she wouldn't have noticed if she hadn't already been expecting it. She can't detect any hint of lust in his eyes—not yet, anyway—and that only excites her more.

"You have five minutes," he barks, opening the door a fraction further to let her in. "After that, you leave my property and never remind me again of these ridiculous notions of yours, whatever they may be."

"We have a deal then?" she asks, knowing that they do, but wanting to hear him say it.

"The deal is struck," he confirms, giving her one of those smirks that are probably meant to intimidate her.

Lacey just raises one unimpressed eyebrow, and impulsively offers him her hand. Gold takes it, shaking it briefly, his grip warm and firm.

It's the first time he's actually touching her—or indeed, the first time they have any sort of real, mutually agreed-upon contact.

She forces herself to hold back the wide grin that's insistingly tugging at the corners of her mouth as he makes a mocking gesture of welcome, and she steps into the house where no one else she knows has ever set foot.

Similarly, she tries not to squeal upon laying her eyes on the interior that nobody else knows about… Much as she'd love to take in as much of it as she could, to remember the huge amount of doubtlessly valuable items that cover most available surfaces.

"Can I offer you anything to drink?" he asks, sarcasm all but dripping from his voice. "Then you won't have come here for nothing after all."

"How terribly kind of you to ask, but I'm afraid I have to decline," she replies, just as insincere, purposefully ignoring his last remark. "Time being short, and all that."

"What has brought all of this on?" he asks, not entirely managing to sound casual. "A bet with Miss Lucas, I presume?"

"Oh no, nothing like that," Lacey says, marveling at the insight that this assumption of his gives her of his mind... at what it says about him—that he still can't believe her fascination with him to be genuine. "Just my own curiosity."

He snorts in disbelief. She doesn't bother coming up with a reply. Instead, she looks around the living room where he has brought her. She has always planned to improvise when she got to this point—like she knew she would.

Somewhere, she is certain of it, she must be able to find something—something that will reveal to her why he hasn't fully ignored her, or bribed the Sheriff to get rid of her after all.

The curtains are already closed, a cup of what seems to be tea, of all things, on a small table next to a comfortable-looking chair. Classical music is playing quietly in the background, an old book occupying the seat where he must have been reading before she arrived.

All in all, it looks cozy and comfortable... and as if nothing had changed here for a very, very long time.

It fully dawns on her just how very lonely he must be. It's not boredom that had him bring her here, not such as she considered before. It's not entertainment that he wants from her. It's company, of a type he probably thinks she can't provide.

Well, she can think of a _very_ good way of sharing something with him... something a whole lot less boring than books or chess or repairing old things, or whatever else it is he does to occupy himself night after night, year after year.

"Why don't you sit down?" she suggests, trying not to sound as confident and seductive as she usually would.

He does as she asks, before she has to remind him of the five minutes he promised her. Gold moves with some difficulty as he settles himself back in the armchair, carefully placing the book on the table next to him. His fingers are ever so nimble and dexterous, leaving her to wonder once again what else those hands might be capable of.

Lacey surveys the rest of the room, the couch opposite the chair he chose momentarily holding her attention. But fascinating and satisfying as it would doubtlessly be to strip herself bare and pleasure herself right in front of him, she has a more promising approach in mind.

Congratulating herself on the look she chose to display, prudish as it may be, she approaches him.

His sarcastic smile is still there, but the expression is yet less convincing than before. He's on his guard, doubtlessly expecting the same sort of advances she has made in the past few weeks. She can all but see him mentally preparing to reject anything she might try.

So that's why Lacey isn't going to attempt anything, at least not of the kind he thinks... not _yet_ , anyway.

Having him exactly where she wants him to be, she walks over to him, making sure not to sway her hips like she usually would, and not to make a show as she slips out of her uncharacteristically low heels.

Without saying a word, she clambers onto the chair where Gold just seated himself, straddling him. He tenses immediately, just like she expected he would. He looks right past her, doubtlessly reminding himself _not to react_.

All in all, this is going exactly according to the plan she just made.

Lacey makes certain to keep some distance between them, settling herself on his knees rather than his thighs, mindful of his bad leg. She does wrap her arms around his neck and rests her head on his shoulder, her face towards his skin.

And then, Lacey waits.

Every muscle of Gold's body is taut, ready to push her off him as soon as she does something he is opposed to. At this point, that would probably be anything beyond this.

So she doesn't do anything else.

When he indeed gives no indication of removing her from his person, Lacey allows herself to appreciate the current situation. She is closer to Gold than she has ever been, and it lasts a lot longer than the handful of seconds that she has had with him so far.

His breathing is rapid and shallow, alerting her to something other than annoyance and anger. More than anything, he appears to be wary of both her and what she can do to him.

There's a story here, a reason why he's basically afraid of a woman as powerless as her. Whatever his history is, she's going to find out about it. Now _this_ is the sort of secrets that make life somewhat interesting.

But even if it wasn't, even if she didn't find out yet a lot more about Gold, she already considers this a successful endeavour. Being this near to him, she finally notices his scent. It's unlike that of any other man she knows. It's... sophisticated, she supposes.

A part of it is the same as his shop's, of the many old but well-maintained things he's keeping there. Another part is aftershave, one of a kind she's never smelled before. Finally, there's something she doesn't recognize, something that must be _him_ , unfamiliar and not quite unappealing. The mix of it is a heady combination indeed.

Forcing herself not to breathe in any deeper than she usually would lest he were to find out just to what extent she is analyzing him, Lacey shifts her focus.

His hair is right next to her face, slightly tickling her. Although she can't quite tell from this close distance, she noticed before that there isn't nearly as much gray there as she expected.

This is also the first time she's getting better acquainted with the doubtlessly tailor-made designer clothes that he never goes without. She has never liked the look of them, so stiff and posh, but the fabric of the suit jacket he's wearing even in the privacy and comfort of his own home _is_ delightfully soft against her cheek.

Her impatience is threatening to get the better of her, but Lacey endures. Gold decides the pace of this, never mind his ignorance of that fact. She'll ruin all of this as soon as she goes only slightly too fast.

Somewhere in the room a clock chimes nine, signaling the passing of time. Those five minutes must be well over by now... and she's still here.

And then, when another five minutes or so have gone by and he must be starting to think that she's going to try none of the tactics he presumed, Gold relaxes ever so slightly.

Lacey manages to suppress the urge to cry out in early victory, or even to smile. Instead, she stays as still as she was before, making sure to inhale and exhale slowly and deeply. He gradually begins to breathe in the same rhythm as her, that too resulting in less tension in his limbs and neck.

They just sit there together for a long while, nearly motionless, as Lacey bides her time. She's already found out that he longs for company. Now it's time to prove that the most feared man in town wants to be hugged.

Her first movements are particularly cautions. Any other man probably wouldn't even have noticed that her right index finger has moved half an inch or so.

Of course, it doesn't escape Gold's attention.

His breath hitches audibly in his throat, and all tension is back within a second when Lacey rubs the pad of her finger ever so lightly against his back. Having expected nothing less, she continues caressing him, repeating the almost non-existing movement over and over again.

By the time he starts to calm down once more, reassured that she has nothing drastic in mind for at least the time being, Lacey increases her ministrations.

It takes one long minute after another, but eventually she has Gold with mostly unclenched muscles and fairly calm breathing beneath her as she caresses his back and upper arms, her head still lying on his shoulder.

Putting her face somewhat closer to his neck, she keeps all her movements slow and regular. She goes on and on, as focused on keeping him calm as she is on the sighs that escape him, quiet and shallow, and the ever so light pressure at the few points where their bodies touch.

She can't be certain whether he is actually getting warmer or if it's her own body temperature rising—or merely wishful thinking—but by now she likes to think that _she_ is indeed having this effect on him.

She'd rather have him _hot_ , but there'll be time for that. She has messed up a lot in her life, often purposefully and without regret, but she's not going to waste this chance. That's why she continues taking her time, savoring her slow progress. Eventually she's stroking his back without pretense, all the way from the nape of his neck to the small of his back.

By then, the urge to go just a few inches lower isn't as strong as it would have been had he been anyone else. Convinced that she'll get there in the end, Lacey is content to explore his upper arm instead, venturing there ever so slowly.

Just sitting there together, touching him more innocently than she has touched any man other than her father for almost as long as she can remember, she finds herself relaxing as well. Although Lacey is still very much a woman on a mission, this whole process isn't nearly as tedious as she probably would have found it in any other situation.

Even though this is _Gold_ , there's no denying that there isn't much going on physically. But knowing who she's with, what she's doing to him, is exciting in a way she never experienced before. The quiet music in the background, of a sort she would usually never listen to, the coziness of the crammed living room... it's nice in a way she didn't know she enjoyed.

Every bit of progress feels like a milestone, each ounce of his acceptance a victory.

His neck is next. This time, she can't hold back a smile after all when he groans audibly as she caresses his nape with long but for once unpainted fingernails. Whether he fully acknowledges it or not, the sound is one of unmistakable enjoyment. At this point, it doesn't matter that she can't hold back her feeling of triumph any longer; she has reeled him in just like she expected she would.

Still, that doesn't change the fact that this is Gold she is dealing with, the most stubborn and ridiculous man in town—or anywhere, perhaps. So she progresses with caution, digging her nails into his neck ever so lightly one last time before doing something about the distance that has so far remained between their bodies.

Very much aware of his sigh of undeniable disappointment at her removing her hand from his neck, she smiles again when his dissatisfaction turns into something quite different as she closes the distance between their upper bodies, her chest pressing lightly against his.

Lacey is neither surprised nor deterred that he still doesn't reach out to her at this point, like any other man probably would. He is tense once more, as if he were completely on his guard again, as if he expected her to humiliate him.

He may still expect her to trick him one way or another, but he relaxes soon enough when she continues to caress his back, fingers once more brushing against his nape every so often as well.

This time, she wants more from him than merely being at ease, although that is quite the feat in itself considering the man she's trying to seduce. But much as she'd like to continue as she has done until now, going slowly but steadily, she first wants him to reciprocate to at least some extent before she dares to try moving this any further.

His hands are still on the armrest of the chair they're reclined on together. Lacey is quite certain that he would use them to push her off him after all rather than to rest them on her waist if she were to actually ask him to do the latter.

She doesn't know how to persuade him otherwise, but after a few more minutes of just stroking his back and arm like she has done all along, Gold lifts his right hand a few inches off the couch.

Pretending not to see, let alone be delighted by this progress, she reaches for his neck again in silent encouragement. She scratches his nape once more, savoring the low, ever so quiet grunt that follows, and smiles against his shoulder when he settles his hand ever so carefully on her waist.

His touch is so light that she barely feels it, but she's far from discouraged. And indeed, as the minutes pass he rests his hand on her more firmly, the second one soon joining its twin. One of her own hands is permanently at his neck now, caressing and teasing ever so slightly.

At this point, Lacey would have expected any further movement from his side to be meant to put an end to her touches, to shove away from her after all.

But when his arms move again and her muscles tense in anticipation of being removed from him, the gesture couldn't differ more from what she thought. Instead of pulling her off him, his hands make their way to her back as he embraces her for all intents and purposes.

Smirking triumphantly into the crook of his neck, Lacey simply continues what she has been doing for the past few minutes, her grin widening when the feared landlord begins to stroke his hands along her back in return. Before long, he goes as far as to press his face against the bare skin of her neck, the way he purposefully breathes in her scent not nearly as discreet as he himself probably thinks it is.

What a discovery it is that the untouchable Gold likes to _cuddle_.

Still, no matter how delicious it is that she has found out _this_ about him, she is far from finished yet... she's going to show him that he will probably like a whole lot more than simply holding her like this.

Once more, her touches become bolder, increasing their firmness and intimacy. Like before, Lacey slows down or slightly withdraws when reaching parts of him that make him tense, but such instants are always temporary and eventually leading to further progress.

In the end, she is lightly tugging at his hair while still teasing his nape with her fingernails. At the same time, she's kissing the side of his neck, her tongue darting out to lick and tease his skin every once in a while. No matter what she does, Gold doesn't stop her... if anything, he practically clings to her, gasping his approval openly against her throat.

It takes several more triumphant minutes before he is kissing her neck in return, the pressure and the frequency both low but undeniable. His hands are moving over her with increasing certainty and enthusiasm, coming closer and closer to the vicinity of her chest.

Her victory is complete another few moments later, when there's something hard and hot pressing unmistakably between her legs.

Unable to hold back a chuckle of delight, Lacey can't help but drive her hips purposefully into his, drinking in the sound of his low, almost animalistic growl and the way he bucks his hips back into hers in a manner which appears to be entirely instinctive.

She can tell immediately that she has moved too quickly after all, for Gold tenses once more. He removes his arms from her immediately, placing his hands on her thighs instead, ready to push her off his lap just like he was at the beginning of her little experiment.

"You've made your point, Miss French," he rasps, flustered to the extent of humiliation.

"I rather think _you're_ the one making a point," she retorts, unable to resist and remaining right where she is.

Her smile falls though when he cringes, trying to increase the distance between them. He doesn't manage, not with Lacey still straddling him.

"Some things are beyond even my control," he mutters, staring at the point where their bodies are touching.

"So it seems," she replies, thinking of him, of _them_ , with an intensity she hardly ever bothers considering anything with.

"You've got what you wanted, haven't you?" he asks, something that could be hurt lurking behind the cold, not entirely indifferent drawl. "A well-deserved _conquest_ to brag about to your friends?"

"I partially got what I want," Lacey replies, purposefully not acknowledging his second question, nor telling him that having him hard against her is only half of her plan. "Question is, did you get what _you_ want?"

He looks at her as if she had grown a second head—or, indeed, as if she is purposefully seducing him for that matter. More than mere lust, the longing in his eyes is undeniable.

Gold unmasked.

"I won't do anything you don't want me to do," she continues, savoring the triumph of finally having his attention in every sense of the word. "But I could do something you might _really_ want me to do."

"You... you would..."

Sweat is beading at his temples, a tremor in his voice.

He glances down at his tenting trousers, then looks back up, although he doesn't entirely meet her gaze. Who would have thought that Gold was so awkward about it that he couldn't even say the words.

"Oh yes, I would," Lacey breathes, shivering at the power she has achieved, at the anticipation of taking this further, of showing him that she truly hasn't done anything yet. "Would you like me to?"

He is absolutely motionless for several endless seconds, but then he nods slightly, closing his eyes as though in defeat. He looks embarrassed, almost miserable, but it doesn't bother her to see him react like this at the prospect of having her attention in a way many other men can only dream of.

In contrast, it fascinates her how he is almost upset with his body for responding to her the way it does, almost as if his getting aroused were worse to him than the knowledge that she is the one who has gotten him in that state.

"I would like to as well, Mr. Gold," she purrs, almost giddy at her success.

Eager to finally take the next step, she leans back slightly to create some more space between them. The brief flash of disappointment on his face doesn't escape her, nor does the appeasement that follows. It's yet another little revelation that has her mind spinning, this still existing belief of his that she can't possibly go through with this after all, that he _wants_ her to.

Fully intending to put an end to his doubt once and for all, she pulls her blouse over her head, casually throwing it over her shoulder. She keeps a close look on his face when her plain bra is revealed to him.

Every once in a while, she gets a partner who isn't quite impressed with the size of her breasts once her push-up bra comes off. Many more of them would probably feel the same way about the modest bra she has bought to match her conservative outer clothes.

Gold, however, looks at her chest as if he had never seen anything more pleasing. His face flushes further and he licks his lips, his eyes wide and dark, unaware of her heavy gaze on him. His look is obviously one of approval, of desire, and there's a tingle inside of her that she can't quite identify.

And yet, he doesn't stop staring, giving no sign whatsoever of actually reaching out for her.

"You're supposed to touch them now, you know," she says, her voice, to her surprise, filled with fondness rather than bewildered amusement.

He looks up to meet her eyes, questioning, but she can't tell whether he can't believe she's letting him do this or he just doesn't know how. So Lacey simply takes his right hand in her own and presses it against her left breast, his breath catching and his hips bucking in response to the touch.

Only the continued contact with her own hand has him palming her experimentally, almost shyly, not daring before a while to brush his thumb to her nipple. It's not doing much for her, but watching Gold, all focused and flustered, is a delight regardless.

Still, this isn't going anywhere, whereas Lacey has grand plans for the evening—for _him_.

Intending to surprise him and expecting to manage that this way, she moves his hand from her chest to her hip. Making use of the space thus created between them, she presses herself against him, guiding his head back to her neck.

He starts to lick and kiss there immediately, and she smiles at the progress she has made with him at least in that particular regard. It further persuades her of the rightness of her next action.

As he's busy mouthing her neck, she reaches behind her and unhooks her bra, her fingers struggling with the unfamiliar clasp for just a moment. She has to admit that Gold's tongue and lips are somewhat distracting as well, just like his hands as they come to rest on her waist and caress her softly.

Once she has shrugged off her bra, for as much as she can without distracting him in this position, Lacey leans back and arches into him, bringing her bared chest to the level of his face. The gasping noise of surprise he makes has her chuckling, just like his expression of shock as it finally turns into poorly-veiled lust.

He doesn't need any encouragement to close the last of the distance, tentatively pressing his lips to one of her breasts. Somewhat frustrating as his slow approach might be, she lets him be for the time being, watching him closely as he explores her in a way no man has ever done before.

Gold nuzzles the underside of her breasts, kissing them tenderly every once in a while. She can almost _see_ his confidence growing—she can feel it, too, when she shifts her hips forwards to make herself more comfortable.

Had he been any other person, she would have told him to get on with it. But in this case, she lets him explore her in that strangely timid, probably old-fashioned way of his. It's more amusing than anything else to see how his enthusiasm increases and he loses himself in slowly exploring her chest in such detail, especially since it seems to arouse _him_ more than her, the pressure between her legs becoming increasingly firm.

Then again, there's no denying that she's experiencing pleasure as well when he finally closes his mouth around her nipple, sucking on it lightly while massaging its twin with his admittedly clever fingers. She can't hold back a quiet moan when he experimentally tugs at one of the peaks with very careful teeth.

Of course, even in this state Gold is more observant and alert than many other people in regular circumstances. Given the way he immediately repeats the action, slightly more forcefully this time, he is to at least some extent aware of the effect he's starting to have on her.

Indeed, Lacey is getting wet with more than the arousal caused by her power over him. However, although she senses that Gold could get her off quite nicely with some instructions and demonstrations here and there, that's not what she came here for.

When he glances up at her, at least some of the doubt in his eyes replaced by determination, she reminds herself that _she_ is the one in control and that she won't allow their roles to be reversed.

Lightly but insistingly pushing him back against his chair, she grinds her lower half against his, smiling again when he closes his eyes and grunts loudly. His face is contorted with pleasure as he shunts his hips between hers for as far as their current position allows it. It's such a beautiful contrast to the way he was about to refuse her only a short while ago.

"Do you think you can come like this?" she whispers into his ear, right after rubbing as much of her body against his as she can, making certain to bite his earlobe and make her tone as throaty as it can be.

"Y-yes," the no longer powerful landlord groans, going as far as to bring his hands to her hips and encourage her to continue moving against him.

"That's too bad, because I'm not going to let you."

Her appreciation of the fact that he's finally showing and telling her what he wants is entirely overtaken by his look of outright fear at her apparent rejection at this point of their relationship. More than that, he goes entirely still. His hands remain on her hips, but once more they are angled to push her away rather than to pull her closer.

All of it only convinces her more that there's a story here, something that must have happened to him in the past to make him so reluctant, practically afraid to be in situations like this one.

It's intriguing to the extent that she's strongly tempted to find out sooner or later what that story is, now that she has all but succeeded in her quest to see the most powerful man in town utterly undone at her hands—or, perhaps more aptly, her mouth.

"What do you want?" he rasps, quivering, all of his arousal seemingly gone.

"I've got something else in mind for you," she says, her tone more serious than she wanted it to be.

Before tonight, she would have marveled at the prospect of getting under Gold's skin like this. But now that she's here and now that he's like this, she finds that there isn't much fun to be had in tormenting him as payback for all the times he pretended not to be interested in her.

To make her intent clear, Lacey shifts off his lap, very much aware of how his expression hardens in acceptance and disappointment alike. It turns into something else entirely, however, when she kneels down at his feet and reaches meaningfully for his thigh.

"Would you like me to?"

No matter how slow Gold may have been before, this time he knows exactly what she's talking about and nods in response to her question. And no matter how evasive he was earlier, no matter how reluctant, he is neither of those things when she slowly but purposefully unbuckles his belt.

He goes almost visibly back to full hardness when she works to bare him, his eagerness for her practically burning a hole through his expensive trousers. Licking her lips in anticipation, she savors each and every detail of the moment, knowing that she'll look back on this very minute for many years to come.

With some of his help, she manages to get his trousers to his knees and reveal dark blue boxer shorts, which are also very soft to the touch. Although she likes running her fingers over them, teasing him yet more, she doesn't want this to be over before it has properly begun.

In fact, she hopes that he'll last until she can actually take him into her mouth in the first place. Everything she has learned of Gold so far tells her that there haven't been many women in his life, that he hasn't been _into_ a lot of women. She's convinced that the last time he might have done this is ages ago to boot.

Lacey is practically salivating by the time she's ready to draw his tented boxer shorts down his surprisingly muscular thighs. She would lie if she said that she hasn't thought of this quite often. The usual questions such as what he might look like and how he might react to her in this instance are joined by the question of whether she's about to reveal something which might explain why he's so shy about this.

She lingers before she actually bares him, looking up at him. She tells herself that this is all part of her final triumph, of making him beg for her ministrations after rejecting them for so long. But when she makes eye contact, she can't entirely deny that his consent is what she's truly after.

He nods again, his face a perfect blend of lust and nervousness. He may not be convinced that the outcome of their little dally will be a good one, but he clearly still very much wants her. It gives her the final encouragement she needs to proceed.

Lacey releases the breath she's been holding when she bares his crotch. She finds him standing to full attention, a lot more regular-looking than she expected a moment ago. It's almost a disappointment but at the same time, the discovery that Gold is very much average, at least in this sense, is a discovery nonetheless.

She has given considerable thought to how she might proceed if she were to get to this particular point, having been undecided until very recently. But now that the landlord is all but whimpering, the very air from her lungs that brushes against him making him twitch, there's only one way to go about this.

Before, she has imagined teasing him endlessly, only giving him what he wants when he's ready to _beg_ her for it. But now that he's looking at her the way he is, his eyes pleading with her even though his mouth isn't, Lacey figures that the best she can do to show him how wrong he was about her is to give him the most pleasure she can.

Gold cries out when she kisses his tip, the sound wonderfully desperate. She hasn't even started yet, has merely given him a small taste of what is about to come. Then again, she is increasingly aware that she shouldn't start too enthusiastically, not wanting this to be over too soon.

So when she eventually takes him into her mouth, she makes certain to keep the contact light and fleeting. Which is probably a good thing, for his body convulses so strongly that she is almost afraid to imagine how he might react if she were to go about this like she usually does.

The way he _shakes_ and mutters nonsensically also increases her conviction that it has been a long, long time since he has been with someone in any capacity... in fact, she starts to wonder whether he has ever been inside a woman's—or a man's—mouth at all.

He makes no move to touch her, gives no hint at all that the thought even occurs to him to slam himself into her mouth or to grab her head and force her into a rhythm of his preference. Indeed, when she takes his hand and guides it to her head—simply to see what he will do—all he does is caress the side of her face.

Lacey doesn't go through life seeking people's approval, especially not like _this_ , but there's something strangely pleasant about the way he treats her, yet more so when he reverently mutters her name over and over again.

It's interesting in a way she couldn't have hoped for, to find that her greatest conquest to date is shockingly ordinary and yet so very different at the same time. He looks and tastes like any man she's been with, but everything about him _feels_ different.

She probably shouldn't find it endearing, she especially shouldn't find it intriguing, but she very much does.

When they reach the ending of her seduction—or at least, of this part of it—and she brings him right to the edge with long perfected movements, she lingers for a moment on the irony that it has taken them so long to get to this point, and that it will all be over so very soon now that they have finally reached it.

Still, Lacey doesn't want to draw this out any longer, even though she knows very well how easily she could. But he is a sweating, desperate mess and she tells herself that she's gotten almost all that she wanted, that all there's left to do now is find out what the most powerful man she knows looks like when he comes inside her mouth.

She tells herself that she isn't doing anything but simply and straight-forwardly giving him the pleasure he craves, especially when he tugs lightly at her hair and mutters almost pained words of warning. It's amusing and rather touching at the same time that he maintains a strange and seemingly out of place gentlemanliness.

Still, the main event is still to come, as it were, and she looks up at him, directly meeting his gaze. She can tell how close he is, how little it would take to send him flying over the edge. Both wanting to remind him that _she_ is the one in charge and to draw out the experience for a few more seconds, she withdraws slightly, but not far enough to give him the impression that she is going to leave him unsatisfied.

No matter how close he is, he isn't bucking into her mouth. She can't help but marvel at that self-control, wonder how on earth he has gotten this disciplined... how she might break his control, and how she might personally enjoy that discipline at another time.

For now, his eyes are wonderfully dark and wild and, never breaking their eye contact, she takes him deeper into her mouth than she has before, expertly finishing him off exactly as quickly as she estimated.

His eyes close abruptly but she keeps looking at him the entire time, seeing the exact moment when he comes and collapses back into the chair, crying out something which might or might not be her name as he spurts into her mouth.

Lacey sucks him down greedily, prolonging his pleasure until he's whimpering and trembling, his chest rising and falling heavily. Only when she has sampled him to the very last drop does she let him slide out of her mouth with a satisfactorily wet sound.

She isn't quite certain what she expected him to do right after the act. Maybe he doesn't know that either, for he remains lying where he is for a considerably long time. Sensing that he might feel particularly self-conscious—and that she _cares_ about his potential discomfort—she tugs him back into his boxers, making him as decent as she can.

His eyes open again eventually, quickly focusing on her as he sits up in his chair, looking at her where she's still kneeling at his feet. For a few moments, he tries and spectacularly fails to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, as if she hadn't just made him come entirely undone.

She can _see_ him realize that he can't pretend not to be blown away by what she has done to him. He looks at her lips in a not quite subtle manner and she laughs a little, enough to show him that she has swallowed each and every drop.

Gold groans in reaction, as if he still couldn't believe _,_ even now, what she has done—what _they_ have done. It makes him only more flustered and bewildered, so very unlike the almighty landlord he usually is. Now that his usual mask of power and control has fallen, she sees a man whom she barely recognizes... a man who's all the more intriguing for it.

"Do you wish to leave?" he asks, his voice very, very soft in a manner which she wouldn't have associated with him until now.

The question itself might be neutrally formulated, but the hesitant longing that resonates in his voice makes very clear to her that he's rather hoping for a particular outcome, for all of his fear of the potential consequences.

His tone also tells her that there's a part of him that still expects this to be the point where she rushes off and tells all of town what she has done with him—making up a lot of unflattering, possibly untrue details in the process.

She never intended to do _that_ , any discoveries she might make about him solely intended for her own amusement. In all her plotting and scheming, Lacey has never considered the possibility that she might enjoy her interaction with him beyond proving to both of them that she is actually capable of seducing him.

To her surprise, she realizes that she _wants_ him... that she has come to truly, honestly desiring _Gold_ of all people.

Not because he's a challenge or because he's rich and powerful, but because there's something about him that she likes despite herself… and because she's increasingly certain that he can make her feel pretty damn good, and that he will eagerly follow any instruction she might give him.

"No, I do not wish to leave," she says quietly. "Do _you_ wish for me to leave?"

"No," he breathes, looking as if he were almost ashamed of it.

"Good," she says firmly. Lacey might not have planned beyond the part where she made him come apart, but she hadn't quite expected either that he would make her feel like this. "Because I'd much rather stay here and have you return the favor."


End file.
